


This monster has a heart

by wolfypuppypiles



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellamy wasn't in his right mind, Blood, Broken Bones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Gore, Graphic, Hurt Bellamy, Hurt/Comfort, Hyperventilating, Murder, Panic Attacks, Pike sucks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Clarke, Protective Octavia, Regret, Sad, Torture, Vomit, Worried Clarke, Wounds, have to be careful cause haters, he was manipulated, id ont even know what to tag, im not making excuses for him im just providing a possible option, possible spoilers for season three, worried delinquents, worried octavia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6000250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfypuppypiles/pseuds/wolfypuppypiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kane stood be-side her watching the Blake boy thrash. </p><p>“What are you thinking Abby?”</p><p>“I’m thinking these kids have been through too much for us to ignore the trauma their dealing with and to ignore the signs of PTSD when they’re clearly there.” </p><p>Bellamy's drastic actions with Pike were a result of his PTSD and trauma. (based sort of on what happened in the last episode and what could happen in the next one)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bellamy was dragged away roughly, his hands pulled behind his back as he was handcuffed. Clarke was staring at him with an open mouth. She looked at him the way she had looked at Finn that day they stumbled upon his small massacre. He could see the disgust in her eyes, the silent “Who are you? And what have you done?” Bellamy wasn’t sure he could answer. 

He had been so desperate to prove he could protect his people again. More than forty people were blown up in that mountain under his watch. Gina had died and he’d been responsible for even more deaths in that cursed mountain. Everyone had been leaving him; Clarke choosing to stay with Lexa, and his sister wanting to leave for a life with Lincoln. The only thing he would have left was his people and he had been so desperate to prove he could still protect him that he had trusted the wrong man. And now an army of grounders was dead by his hands. 

After all the lives lost in Mount Weather one would think he would be used to the weight of so much death and the feeling of innocent blood on his hands, but he only wanted to throw up or go back in time to stop it from happening. God, he would do anything to fix it. Or to have died with the rest of them, maybe that’s what he deserved. 

Watching as Clarke, Lexa and the leaders of Arcadia took in the carnage Bellamy thought he might die after all. There was no way this mass murder wouldn’t be punished. Blood must have blood. He knew he wouldn’t get the same mercy killing Finn had. Clarke hated him now, she probably wouldn’t even cry. His dark thoughts swirled in his head. 

He thought about the punishment he would receive. Would he be simply banished? He could be shock lashed or sentenced to the thousand cut death. Maybe a combination of the two. 

After everyone had seen what had happened Pike had been handcuffed too, Kane immediately being put back into power. Bellamy was glad at the change, he knew Kane would put things right, possibly even salvage the relationship between the grounders and the Arkers. 

Bellamy was marched, with the others, to a holding cell in Arcadia, his handcuffs being taken off as he was thrown in the cell. Looking around, he didn’t even know what he had been thinking when he sided with these violent, angry men. Some of them were screaming through the bars, yelling that they had done the right thing. Others, like Pike, were silent and smiling, sick looks of pride on their faces at what they had done. 

Bellamy’s stomach churned at the thought of Clarke and Octavia, and even the others, seeing him as the same as these sadistic creatures. His stomach heaved and the soldier lent forward as he vomited onto the cell floor, a few other men remarking their disgust.

Though there was no blood on his hands, how impersonal and cowardly it was to shoot your unarmed targets from a distance, he looked at them in horror. His hands were dirty and hardly looked like his own. He wondered, if I looked on a mirror, would I recognize myself?  
He had an itch in his skin, an urge to peel his skin away and reveal the new skin underneath. The new skin might not be so tainted. Or does the sort of evil he’s done soak in the skin? Does it come from the inside? 

He felt like a monster and Clarke looked at him like one. What if all of him was bad? What if he always had been? He felt like his chest was empty and full at the same time. His lungs were tight and there wasn’t enough air in the room for him to catch his breath. It was all too much, what he had done, what he had become. It was all ruined. He couldn’t fix it, any of it. Bellamy didn’t know what to do, he felt like he was drowning. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he clenched his hands into fists and tried to breathe. The air was whistling through his teeth and his chest was on fire. Distantly, voices reached out to him.

“What’s wrong with him? Is he sick?” 

Then Kane’s voice, worried but stiff, unsure what to think of the murderer hyperventilating in the corner.

“He’s hardly breathing. Go get Abby.”

Someone else said something about vomit. Bellamy let out a whimper, he couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t calm down to settle his breathing. He clutched a hand to his chest, fingers digging into the skin in an attempt to breathe. 

His head was growing fuzzy and everything was slipping from him. There was shuffling and some orders barked out, a few guns being cocked. Bellamy could hear their voices.

“Those men in there are dangerous you can’t just waltz in there, they just murdered an entire army, they could hurt you.”

“He’s just a boy. He needs help and I’m a doctor, now move out of my way and let me help him.”

More orders being shouted, people moving, then someone close to him.

“Bellamy? Can you hear me? You’re hyperventilating, I need you to calm down.”

The boy shook his head, whimpering again as he grew dizzier. Abby shuffled closer, reaching a hand to the soldier. Bellamy jumped when he felt the hand on his arm. He immediately opened his eyes and jumped back, away from the surprised doctor. 

“No! Please don’t touch me! Stay back!”

Abby watched the terrified man back himself into the corner of the cell. He looked scared but as she looked in his eyes she realized he was scared for her, not of her. Standing up, the doctor looked at Kane and his guards.

“Take him to a separate cell.”

Kane looked confused but nodded and gestured the guards forward. But Bellamy saw them coming and protested, yelling at them to leave him, actually throwing a few punches too, before being dragged out to a separate cell. Abby watched the whole thing with concern, a tight frown knitting her eyebrows together. 

Kane stood be-side her watching the Blake boy thrash. 

“What are you thinking Abby?”

“I’m thinking these kids have been through too much for us to ignore the trauma their dealing with and to ignore the signs of PTSD when they’re clearly there.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so shitty and its late but I have heat stroke so please forgive me. I will try to get the next one up sooner and for it to be actually interesting. You guys are the best

It had taken almost twenty minutes for Bellamy to calm down, tucked in the corner of his cell, Abby hadn’t been able to get closer than the outside of the cell bars without starting his panic up again. 

She tried to talk to him, get him to tell her what had gotten him so worked up, although she had a few obvious things to choose from. He had stayed quiet, tired after everything, and laid down facing the wall. 

Kane stood beside her, peering into the cell at the young man, so different from the person he had trusted just a few days ago.

“Abby, what are we going to do with him? I liked him too but he’s one of them now.” He pointed to the criminals in the other holding cell.  
“He chose to follow them and they killed people. That’s murder Abby, we can’t let that go unpunished and you know the Trikru won’t.”

Abby shook her head sadly. It was just like Finn all over again.

“Bellamy was showing signs of PTSD ever since he came back from the mountain. Most of the kids were, he just handled it better than others. I thought he’d be okay. I should have done something about it sooner. This is my fault, I shouldn’t have been trying to be a chancellor and a doctor.”

Kane turned to look her in the eye now, his forehead creased. 

“Abby what are you talking about? He was fine, he was taking care of everybody-“

The doctor interrupted, needing him to understand.

“But not taking care of himself. He may have acted fine and he may have been doing his jobs and looking after everyone but he still went through trauma. He didn’t talk about it, he didn’t deal with it and when Clarke left again he started getting reckless. He chose to trust a grounder girl instead of trusting protocol and logic. Reckless behavior is a symptom of PTSD, he was hardly himself that day. Going into the mountain again, where he had been tortured and where he and Clarke and Monty had killed hundreds of people. We shouldn’t have sent him in there. And then Gina and the rest of the survivors in Mount Weather were blown up and killed. And he wasn’t there to stop it. He blamed himself for those deaths.”

Kane’s eyes grew in understanding even as his mouth was open with disbelief.

“He can’t hold responsibility for all that. It wasn’t his fault, there were multiple factors involved. He can’t blame everything on himself.” 

Abby looked back to the broken boy laying on the floor of his cell and sighed. 

“But he does.”  
.............................................

Clarke walked to the holding cells, still trying to process everything that had happened. She couldn’t believe what Bellamy had done, even as she saw it with her own eyes. The bodies littering the ground, hundreds of dead faces, people that Bellamy had helped kill. 

The ground was soaked in blood and there was nowhere to look to escape the carnage. It was a massacre. Murder. They had no chance against the guns used on them, bullets flying through the once still air as they died still reaching for their weapons, taking more lives than any one person should.

But Bellamy had. He had murdered hundreds. 

The mountain had been different. They had had no choice but to rescue their people and the grounders. But this….. This was monstrous and she didn’t know what to think of him.

When she had first met Bellamy on the ground he had come off as brutish, angry and dangerous. But as she had gotten to know him she saw that he had acted that way only to protect himself and his sister. Bellamy was her best friend and her co-leader. Someone she had trusted to be by her side and bear the responsibility of leadership. She broke that trust first by sending him to that mountain and again when she left him at the gates of camp Jaha. But now she couldn’t even recognize him, and she just couldn’t understand how her Bellamy could turn into something so deadly.

Pushing her emotions back, the girl raised her chin and met her mother in front of the cells.

“Mom. You asked for me?”

Abby took her daughters arm, looking sad.

“Clarke, it’s about Bellamy. I’m worried about him.”

The girl creased her brow, confused. Besides the massacre what did she have to be worried about?

“What do you mean?”

Abby reluctantly showed her daughter to Bellamy’s cell where he had been lying in the same position he had laid down in yesterday. 

“He was having a panic attack after we arrested them all so I took him to a separate cell but he hasn’t moved since. I can’t get any sort of response from him and he hasn’t eaten or drunken since I don’t know when. You two have a connection, just talk to him.”

Clarke looked at the dark haired boy at the back of the cell, body half curled on his side, facing the wall. He looked so vulnerable he couldn’t possibly be the same person that started a war with Pike. 

She shook her head. She had met a few different Bellamy’s. The one that riled up the delinquents and lusted for power. The one that took care of his sister and gave his heart to the kids that called him their leader. The one that cried in the woods and told her he was a monster. Bellamy had revealed himself to her, layer by layer, until she felt like she knew him inside and out. But this unresponsive shell wasn’t a layer she had met before.

“Mom I don’t even know him anymore. What he did-“

Abby cut her daughter off.

“He has PTSD Clarke, of course he isn’t acting like himself. You know Bellamy, you cared about him more than anyone else. I could tell, the moment I saw you two taking care of all those kids together, before we came down. I’ve seen the way Bellamy takes care of his sister. He’s gentle and smart. He looks out for Raven even when she wants to do things on her own and he insists on trying to help Jasper even though almost everyone else has given up. 

“He tried to go save you from the grounders, while bleeding out from a stab wound. He had to be dragged back to camp so I could stitch him up and as soon I finished he wanted to go out looking for you again. That boy has suffered incredible trauma and his actions were directly influenced by PTSD. You should see the scars on him from what those mountain men did to him. You can’t expect him to just be fine after all that. We can’t lose him, or any of the other kids, the way we lost Finn.”

Clarke’s eyes had filled with tears during her mother’s short speech and finally fell at the mention of Finn. It stung, to be reminded of that spacewalker. He had changed too, from peace-loving and charming to a crazed murderer.

And after the pain of having to kill him in order to save him from a torturous death, it had turned out to be a wasted sacrifice when Lexa betrayed them at the mountain. And she had chosen to stay with her instead of going home with Bellamy. She had left him again. Clarke felt a stone of guilt settle in her stomach, one of many that lay there always. 

This was her fault and she would do her best to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any particular symptoms of ptsd you want bellamy to display just let me know also i always love prompts so just let me know if you have a desperate need for a fic


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke winces at the grating of the cell door being opened, and while almost everyone else flinches at the sudden noise Bellamy doesn’t move an inch.

The blonde crept slowly into the cell, shoulders tensing, coming up to her ears in fright when the cell door is closed behind her. The thought of what Bellamy had done, all those people dead, should make her afraid to be in the same space as him but looking down at his curled form on the floor she just feels lonely. 

Bellamy usually took up so much space, he was a big guy for sure but it wasn’t just physically, his presence demanded attention and respect; the lines of his jaw set steel through anyone that disobeyed him. But he also had a gentleness that ran right through him, in his eyes when he talked to someone in his hushed, calm tone and in his hands when his fingertips brushed hers or when he took care of his sister.

He was so big and important it seemed there wasn’t enough room in the world or Clarke’s heart to hold all of him. But now he was small and cold and he didn’t move. It was like seeing a dying star, once bright and full and shining, now only a cold rock that’ll never shine again.  
The medic gingerly sat down against the wall a little away from the boy on the ground. She didn’t even know what to say. She cleared her throat and looked at him, seeing only a little of his face over his shoulder and his head of curls before shaking her head and looking at the ground instead. 

She was quiet for a few moments longer before finally pushing her words through her hesitant teeth.

“My mum asked me to talk to you. You haven’t moved in a while and she thought I could help. She’s worried about you.” She let out a small puff of air in a laugh. 

“Which is pretty funny when you think about it. When she first saw you all she could see was the criminal who shot Jaha. Of course she ignored the part about you protecting Octavia. Although now Jaha is causing trouble in camp and I think Mum and Kane might want to shoot him themselves.”

She peeked a glace over at Bellamy again but the only movement was his chest slowly rising and falling. She sighed and looked away again.

“Mum says you have PTSD. I know what that is, I’ve lived through it myself and if that’s the case then we’ll help you Bellamy. I can’t have this end like Finn. I meant it when I said I couldn’t lose you and I know I left, twice, but I honestly thought it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to leave you, I thought I was doing what I was supposed to. I guess that’s what you thought when you and Pike went and….”

Clarke looked over at him again, most of the awkwardness falling away at the realization that he probably didn’t even know she was there. He was catatonic, unresponsive. He didn’t respond to anything, perhaps because he couldn’t hear her at all. 

Watching as Bellamy’s chest moved, the blonde noticed a small hitch, almost a flinch in the tensing of his shoulders, when he took a particularly deep breath. Frowning the girl inched closer, watching carefully to confirm her suspicions. Looking closer she could see one of the boys arms wrapped protectively over his ribs. He wasn’t just hiding, he was hurt.

“Bellamy? What’s wrong with your chest?”

She moved closer, feet scuffing the floor as she scooted to the boy, and it was small but he moved. His arm tugged closer, turning away from her slightly. Clarke froze, keeping her gasp quiet as she moved slower, reaching a hand towards him. 

“Bellamy if you’re hurt let me help.” Her fingertips brushed his arm and while he tensed he did not move again, she leaned over him and saw his eyes fixed to the wall, a determined set to his jaw and the crease of his eyebrows. He looked like a sulking toddler, though not many toddlers had a tantrum body count in the hundreds. 

Kneeling over him, Clarke watched closely for retaliation as she took hold of the bottom of his shirt and started to pull it up. Bellamy didn’t move save for his fist which he curled tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. Clarke watched his skin as it was exposed, the goose bumps that rose, the bruises that displayed themselves on his skin. 

The medic’s fingers ran over the blooming colors, noting the patterns and shapes telling her how they were made, but also the change in Bellamy’s breathing. Her mother had told her they had forced him in the cell, these were the evidence of just how hard he had struggled. She looked over his shoulder again to note the same bruising on his wrists where they grabbed him. 

Clarke pressed her hands harder into his ribs, making sure none were broken, wincing in sympathy when Bellamy squirmed at the pressure. 

“I think there may be one or two cracks but nothing too serious.”

He didn’t reply.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to let me check the other side.”

Still no reply, though Clarke suspected if it was comfortable enough for him to lie on his side for more than a day then it couldn’t too bad. Of course it wouldn’t be entirely unusual for the soldier to put up with it as a punishment to himself. 

Clarke was about to sigh at his stubbornness again when she noticed something peeking from beneath his shirt, higher up on his back, something that made her breathing stop altogether.

They looked like scars, messy and patched like burns that had healed badly.

Tugging his shirt higher to try and reveal the scars made Bellamy grunt in protest. Clarke looked to his face in surprise and saw him looking at her from the corner of his eye, head barely moved from its position. Clarke looked him in the eyes as she pulled his shirt, giving him a look that said ‘no matter what it is I need to see it’ 

The fabric was pushed up to reveal the scars littering his back. They looked like chemical burns, light and not as bad as they could be but they were there. Other lines on his neck told her of the tubes that had invaded him and stolen his blood. She had heard of how he was tortured, how the mountain men treated their new captives but this… this was the proof that she could see and feel under her fingertips. These were scars that wrote out her guilt because these were her fault. 

Bellamy watched her as she touched the scars, her hands shaking as they mapped out the memories of hell that his skin was left to hold. His eyes were sad but a little relieved like finally she understood. She understood how much pain he was in, how much she left him to handle on his own, like the rippled skin was an explanation to why he had been slowly losing his mind. 

“Bellamy I’m….. I didn’t know it was this bad. I hadn’t known that they…. If I had….oh Bellamy.”

It did make sense now though. He had been through hell and she had left him with the aftermath. She looked into his eyes and saw the hollowed out shell of someone who had given everything to protect those he cared about, only to be left behind when they left him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think its fairly obvious by this shitty chapter that i am pretty much all out of ideas for this chapter. If you have any ideas or just have something you want to happen then plllleeeaaaasseee comment it or message me I will be eternally grateful and thank you so much for the kudos and comments already I appreciate them all so much


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke stood at the door to the cell and watched the boy on the floor. Though his shirt was back in its place she could still see his scars in her mind. Her mother sighed again, quiet and resigned.

“Are you sure?”

Clarke nodded, finally turning to look at her mother.

“I can’t leave him again and I can’t have this ending like Finn. This is my responsibility, he’s important to me, I’m not leaving him again. This is how I can help.”

Abby nodded, handing her daughter the salve she had requested as Monty pushed some blankets and pillows through the bars. Monty was watching Bellamy with sad, concerned eyes. 

“Is he going to be okay? I thought he was okay, he acted like everything was fine. I mean I know he’s not one to ask for help but…”

Clarke nodded in understanding and took the items gratefully. 

“I don’t know but I’m going to do everything I can to help him.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. 

“Have you talked to Octavia? She should come and see him, he loves her more than anything or anyone else she should be here.”

Monty shook his head, defeated. 

“She doesn’t want to see him, she’s too mad at him.”

Clarke closed her eyes, frustrated. “He’s her brother she can’t be mad at him forever. I’ll talk with her later.”

Abby and Monty nodded before leaving Clarke to her soldier. Clarke was exhausted and went over to sit beside Bellamy, moving her empty dinner plate and his untouched food aside with her boot. He still wasn’t talking to her but occasionally acknowledged her presence and though it was only to protest her touch, she would take it as a good sign.

She uncovered the salve her mother had given her and started to reach for Bellamy’s shirt again.  
“I’m going to put something on your ribs to help with the bruising and swelling. It should help with the pain as well and just generally promote healing.”

Bellamy didn’t move but he wasn’t stiff anymore, his muscles were lax and his skin raised in goose-bumps as he shivered at her touch. Clarke spread the salve over his ribs, being careful not to press too hard on his bruises or cracked ribs. 

The medic hummed a little as she worked and noted Bellamy’s breathing as it grew deeper. Peeking over his shoulder she watched his glazed-over eyes droop and close as he fell asleep. Clarke smiled at his sudden softness. He was finally sleeping, finally allowing himself to rest, even with her there. At least that meant that he trusted her, he wasn’t afraid to let down his guard around her. Or maybe he was just too exhausted to fight it anymore.

Clarke finished his side and bit her lip as she carefully put a hand on the boy’s hip and arm. He hadn’t let her check his other side but Clarke would bet it matched the one she’d already seen. As gently as she could Clarke rolled Bellamy over onto his back. He was stiff and creased his eyebrows in his sleep at the movement but as Clarke pulled and directed his limbs he slowly uncurled and lay flat on his back. He tossed his head a little and twitched, trying to release himself from her hold but Clarke simply ran a hand through his hair and shushed him, softly talking to him.

“I got you Bellamy. You’re okay, I’m here.”

She hoped her presence was a comfort to him and not an intrusion as it seemed to be when she first came and saw him. She smiled as he calmed at her touch, limbs relaxing and face smoothing out as he settled. 

Clarke watched the Blake’s face as she tugged his shirt up again to inspect his other side. As expected it was covered in bruises but they were heavier and darker than the other side, almost black spread out over his torso. They spread all the way from his hip to his arm and shoulder. Her eyes pricked with tears as she took in the deep colors. They were probably worse because he had been laying on his side for so long, the cracked ribs not approving of the pressure. Her fingers pressed, as carefully as she could, against his side and found a broken rib and three cracks in the bones.

A tear fell before she could catch it, dropping onto Bellamy’s abused skin and rolling down the arc of his side to disappear behind his back. Clarke sniffed and dabbed the salve on the boys’ chest, wincing when he shifted, grunting in pain in his sleep. 

“Shhh Bellamy. It’s okay.”

She used the last of the salve on his wrists, over the slow healing bruising, before pulling his shirt back to its proper place. This poor boy, he hid everything; hid all of his pain, when all he wanted was for someone to notice and understand. He had held so much by himself, kept his pain inside, that it looked like it had become too much too hide, the pain seeping to the surface of his skin and painting it blue in an effort to make someone, anyone see. 

Clarke brushed his curls back and pressed a kiss to the sleeping soldier’s forehead, another tear trailing down her cheek and dropping off her chin to the floor. 

“I can see it now Bell. I can see what you’ve been through, what you held all on your own. But I’m here now, you don’t have to hide it, just let me help. You aren’t a monster, you never were. You’re everything Bellamy. You’re everything to me and I won’t lose you too.”

She took one of the blankets Monty brought for her and spread it out over the boy, tucking it around his sides. Sniffing her tears away, the girl lay down at his side, pressing her forehead to his shoulder and laying her hand next to his. She wanted so badly to hold his hand but knew that he would wake and tear his skin away from hers. She couldn’t be ripped away from him in that way so she simply lay next to him, to feel his warmth and presence next to her. She closed her eyes and allowed the silent tears to fall as she fell asleep. 

……………………..

Clarke woke to grunting, a panicked, desperate sound. She opened her eyes and saw Bellamy’s jaw clenched and tight as he sweat. Sitting up she quickly realized Bellamy was having a nightmare. His fists were clenched and his forehead was creased with lines of pain and fear as he tossed his head, his curls bouncing, the blanket forgotten on the floor.

“Bellamy?”

Clarke went to touch his arm but the boy whimpered at her touch and called out for his sister, begging for her safety. Clarke covered her mouth with her hand to stop from crying at the vulnerability of someone who was usually so strong. 

“Octavia! Please don’t hurt her, don’t hurt my baby sister it was my fault. Don’t take her please, I can’t –“

He was sobbing, the nightmare being cruel enough to break his past few days silence and Clarke’s eyes burred with tears at his husky, breaking voice. 

“I can’t live without my sister please. You’ve already taken my mother, please. Don’t take O too. Not my baby sister.”

Clarke swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped the tears from Bellamy’s face, stroking his cheeks in what she hoped was a calming manner. 

“Bellamy it’s okay, It’s just a dream. Please wake up. Octavia’s’ okay, she isn’t leaving.”

Truthfully Clarke didn’t know if Octavia was leaving or not but if she was it wold be by her choice, no one was taking Octavia away from Bellamy by force. Clarke was actually surprised that of all the things Bellamy could be having nightmares about, his torture, the deaths he had caused, the people he lost, he was dreaming of his baby sister in trouble. She was the most important person in the world to him and the thought of losing her was worse than the torture he suffered in mount weather. 

Bellamy continued to whimper and toss. 

“O I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

Clarke was about to call out to him again when she heard a voice from behind her. 

“You have to sing.”  
The medic spun around to see Octavia at the bars of the cell, tears on her cheeks. Her face was free from the war paint she usually war though her hair was still braided. 

“What?”

“You have to sing to him. That’s the only way to get through his nightmares. Our mum used to sing to us before we went to sleep and I sang to him after mount weather. When I actually managed to get him to sleep.”

Clarke looked at the girl, dazed, as the grounder unlocked the cell and stepped into the cold room. Octavia sat beside her brother and took his hand, her other hand pressing into her brothers curls as she stroked them back. She was so gentle, such a different person that the girl that slit throats and went to war. Octavia was so soft, and her voice, one that Clarke had never heard sing before, was sweet and calming.

Clarke listened to Octavia sing and felt calmer, the lilting notes and smooth tones slow and soothing. 

 

“I’m lying on the moon  
My dear I’ll be there soon  
It’s a quiet and starry place  
Times were swallowed up in space we’re here a million miles away  
There’s things I wish I knew  
There’s no thing I’d keep from you  
It’s a dark and shiny place  
But with you my dear I’m safe and were a million miles away  
We’re lying on the moon  
It’s a perfect afternoon  
Your shadows follows me all day  
Making sure that I’m okay  
And were a million miles away  
A million miles away  
A million miles away”

Clarke watched the siblings as Octavia sung in whispers and Bellamy calmed, his body slumping to the floor and face relaxing. He pushed his face into his sisters open palm as she stroked his face, wiping his tears away with her fingers. Once Octavia finished singing she pulled the blanket from the floor and tucked it around her brother, bending down to kiss his forehead, before she looked at Clarke.

“You wanted to talk about my brother? Let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know song fics suck but I actually couldn't help it okay. let me know what you think tho ( please don't be too mean tho i still want an unbroken heart after this) i appreciate you guys' support and opinions a lot
> 
> also the song is the moon song from the movie 'Her' and you should listen to the song and imagine Bellamy and Octavia singing it together when they are little its adorable  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qOwkhoqRsCg


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long and I'm sorry it's short you guys are amazing thanks for sticking with me.

Octavia led a reluctant Clarke from the cell, watching the now peacefully sleeping Bellamy as she left. What would he think if he woke up to an empty cell? Would he think she abandoned him again? 

“Can we make this quick Octavia?”

“Clarke, you’re the one that wanted to talk to me.”  
Clarke looked back down the hall, to the cell where Bellamy was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling visibly even from where she stood. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to leave him.”

Clarke turned back around to see Octavia looking at her confused. Her eyebrows were scrunched and lips pursed but the hardness of her posture was betrayed by her misted eyes. As if she was hurt by the way Clarke cared about her brother. 

Clarke could tell the grounder wanted to make a comment about how many times she’d already left him. Clarke waited, knowing she deserved it, but the comment never came. Octavia was biting her tongue, Clarke didn’t know why. 

The grounder shook her head, trying to clear her mind, before speaking. 

“What did you want to talk about? I can’t forgive my brother just yet Clarke, not after what he did.”

Clarke nodded as Octavia crossed her arms over her chest, looking vulnerable as she looked at her big brother in his cell. Her breathing was becoming heavier and Clarke knew the girl was trying to hold on to her anger. 

“You don’t have to forgive him yet but at least try to understand. He did what he thought was right, he truly believed that he was protecting us. You know Bellamy, better than anyone else, better than himself, you know he would never hurt anyone unless he had to.”

Octavia shook her head again, looking back at Clarke with renewed anger. 

“Those people were sent to protect us and he murdered them in their sleep! How could he do that? How could the brother that I knew all my life do something that horrible?”

Clarke could see the hurt under Octavia’s rage. She was furious with Bellamy but he was her big brother and she didn’t recognize him anymore. 

“He wouldn’t. You know he wouldn’t, that’s my point. Bellamy would never do those things if he didn’t think he had to. After all that happened at Mount Weather didn’t you notice he was different? He has PTSD Octavia. He went through something traumatic and it changed him.”

Octavia looked back at her brother, her eyes growing misty once again. 

“His nightmares….” 

Clarke nodded.

“Nightmares, flashbacks, panic attacks, erratic behavior, paranoia. They’re all symptoms of PTSD. It isn’t his fault. He needs help to feel safe. For Bellamy it’s like he’s still in the middle of a war, still trapped in Mount Weather, and he will do anything to get out and protect you and everyone else he loves. He believed the grounders were surrounding us for an attack, that’s why he followed Pike into that massacre. He didn’t want to pull that lever in Mount Weather either, but he did it because it was the only way to keep our people, you, safe. And now he can’t escape the guilt left behind.”

Octavia had tears on her cheeks now and she wiped them away with a quick hand before huffing in a breath and looking back at Clarke. Her brother, curled on the floor of his cell, no longer looked like the monster she thought him to be, he looked tired and scared. Octavia couldn’t see him like that. 

“I shouldn’t have left him.” Clarke was fighting back her own tears. “I should have stayed but I was weak. I left him alone, so if you want to be mad at anyone be mad at me.”

Octavia sniffed, ignoring Clarke's offer completely.

“How do we help him?”

The blonde smiled, desperately happy that she wouldn’t have to help Bellamy alone. If anyone could get Bellamy back to himself, it was his sister.

“Talk to him, let him talk to you. Just be there. He loves you so much Octavia, just having you will help.”

The grounder nodded and took a deep breath to calm herself. 

“Okay. Thank you Clarke. For taking care of him, for talking to me….. I’m glad he still has you.”

“He has both of us.”


	6. Chapter 6

Bellamy was dreaming of death. His hands were dripping red, stained to the wrists as if he had buried his fists into someone’s chest and ripped out their heart. Looking down, Bellamy realized he had. A still beating heart sat in his grip, the muscles contracting in a slow beat before it finally stopped, the organ turning grey as it died. 

His hand curled, crushing the grey mass to dust, floating down to land in a puddle of deep red. It was then that Bellamy realized he was standing on a battlefield, bodies strewn everywhere, dead faces and empty eyes all staring at him with open mouths of horror. Though the soldier felt sick at the sight, he could feel his face pulling into a smile. A cold laugh spilled from his lips as he took in the dead army. There were hundreds, and he had killed them all. 

Looking down at his chest, Bellamy realized whose heart he had ripped out. It was his own, a gaping bleeding hole where the organ had once sat. The wound was oozing black, and the skin around it was as ashen as the corpses under his feet. He was rotting from the inside out. 

Another dark laugh met Bellamy’s ears but his mouth was still. He looked up and saw himself, another version of himself, something twisted and evil. Its eyes were completely black, showing his reflection as he stared into them, and it was covered in blood. It was smiling too, a stretched grin that contorted its face into a sick imitation of cheer. 

It spoke then, its voice like ice in Bellamy’s veins. “The god of death shall lay waste to the land and run the streets with blood, for all that he touches …dies.” 

The demon him laughed again and Bellamy looked down to see a knife in his own hands and at his feet lay the bodies of those he loved. His mother, Octavia, Clarke. He screamed himself awake. 

Terrified screams ripped from Bellamy as he woke, the cold floor burning his skin like a hot flame as he scrambled to his feet staring at his hands. They were clean as was the floor beneath his feet but he couldn’t get the image of all that red. Tears dripped from his eyes as he sank to his knees and sobbed, his hands shaking as he gripped his shirt in an effort to breathe. 

There were hands on him then and he jerked back, lifting his faced to see who it was. Octavia looked at him with concern and moved to touch him again, wanting to wipe the tears from his face, but he whimpered and turned his face away from her. 

“No O.”

Octavia drew her hand back, hurt that he didn’t want her. She sighed and knelt a few feet from him, glancing back at a grim looking Clarke before turning back to her brother.

“Bellamy it’s okay, it was just a nightmare.”

The boy shook his head, still refusing to look at Octavia, his face turned away from her.

“No, it wasn’t. It was true.”

He could still see the bodies and empty, dead faces. He could still feel the warm blood on his hands and the smile on his face. 

“What was it about?”

Bellamy shook his head again. She didn’t understand. 

“You shouldn’t be here O.”

Octavia frowned, offended. 

“Why not? Bellamy you’re my brother-“

He cut her off, slamming a fist against the wall.

“I’m not! I’m a monster, a demon thing that kills everything he touches!” Octavia flinched at his shout. His voice turned into a shaky whisper.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Octavia ached to hold him, to wrap her arms around him and take his pain away, but he still wouldn’t look at her. She fisted her hands and pressed them to her knees to stop herself from reaching for him. 

“You won’t. I’m right here Bell, please just look at me.”

He stayed silent, unmoving, as tears dripped from his face onto the floor. She brought in a shaky breath as she started to cry. 

“I don’t think I can forgive you yet, what you did was…. it was awful. But I won’t leave you Bell. I don’t want to lose you. I love you big brother.” Her voice broke over her words and Bellamy finally looked up, his eyes filled with tears as he looked at her. 

“You shouldn’t. How could you love me? What I’ve done-“

“We’ll get through it and we’ll fix it. We’ll put it right. Together.”

Bellamy looked at the honest eyes of his baby sister and let out another sob, finally letting her hands take hold of him. He collapsed against her as she wrapped her arms around him, holding all his broken pieces together. 

Even when he felt as if he had nothing, like his heart had turned to dust and nothing could wash away the evil he had done, his sister could make him feel as if he might one day breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I know this is crap and short I'm not sure if I'm going to continue cause I have no idea what I would do next if I did. Sorry guys, let me know if you have ideas or requests for the next chapter and I'll do my best I hate to let you guys down


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry this has taken so long and that its short but I have a plan now thanks to the wonderful suggestion by Makenzie thank you so much for your great idea I hope I don't let you down. There will be more soon

Camp Jaha was back under Kane’s control, and the people were demanding punishment for the crimes of those who followed Pike. Kane was reluctant to return to the rules of the Ark, to the laws that gave death sentences to minor crimes.

They had followed those laws in space because resources and the Ark’s capacity were limited, but the earth offered them a new future. They had no need for such cruelties here.

Kane knew what he would have done in his earliest days of chancellor on the Ark but he had changed, he was only saddened that the rest of his people had changed from the civil and peaceful people they once were, into these animals and warriors screaming for death. 

“We can’t just murder everyone that breaks the law.”

Kane’s voice was barely calm, tremors of his desperation and anger slipping through. 

Brock, one of the speakers for the grounders, stood and glared at him.

“They massacred an entire army, they are murderers. They deserve to suffer and die.”

Kane slammed a hand on his desk, the metal cold against his fist. 

“I will punish those that deserve it but I will not pay for murder with death.”

The grounder raised his chin in defiance and sent all the hate for the Chancellor through his eyes, the icy calm glare making the silence the loudest thing in the room. He left, as did the speakers for the rest of the Arkers, and Kane slumped back into his seat. His heavy head fell into his waiting hands and his breath left him in a long sigh. He’d seen enough pain, he didn’t need to be the executioner of it, nor did he want to order it onto others. 

The grounders and his people were screaming for blood, and so Kane had no choice. Punishment was deserved and without it, everyone would retaliate. The punishment was set for public shock lashing. His stomach rolled at the thought of it. The stakes were raised, restraints tied and ready, a crowd was already gathering. Marcus hated the savagery of it. How eager they all were to watch someone be tortured.   
He would take no part in it.

………………..

They had been staying with Bellamy in his cell when they heard the yelling. Octavia went out to see what it was about, coming back with a pale face and worried eyes that immediately found her brother. She told Clarke what was happening, the plans of the eager crowd of Arkers and grounders.

“What are we going to do Clarke? We can’t let them take him?”

Bellamy had heard snippets of words. Torture. Shock lash. Public retribution. His chest had begun to tighten and his fingers curled into fists.

“I deserve it.”

The two girls spun around, watching him carefully as he pressed his fists to the ground.

Clarke's voice was firm. 

“No, Bellamy, you deserve support and help and that’s what we’re going to give you.”

He looked up at them, covering his fear with anger like armor over a wound.

“I did terrible things. I murdered people. I deserve to be punished.”

Octavia shook her head. 

“No. Pike deserves to be punished for dragging a kid with PTSD into a battlefield and then asking him to murder an army. He deserves to pay, not you.”

There was a war in his head as he listened to his sister. He knew the things he had done were awful, he knew he was a murderer. But how guilty is the gun when a man fires the weapon? Bellamy sucked in a breath, his armor cracking, and brought his dirt dusted hands to his face. 

“I deserve to feel like shit. I deserve this pain.”

Octavia had knelt beside her brother and took him in her arms, allowing him to curl into her as he tried to breathe.

“You don’t, Bell. You thought you were protecting us. You were trying to be good, that doesn’t make you a monster. Pike deserves it, not you.”

His hands gripped her tight as he cried into her shoulder. His guilt told him he should give himself up to be shock lashed but his shaking hands and heaving chest knew that he couldn’t endure torture again. He’d been tortured in Mt Weather, he couldn’t do it a second time. His armor crumbled and his fear poured out.

“Please don’t let them take me. I can’t- I can’t go through it again. Please O, don’t let go.”

Octavia swallowed her own tears as she held her big brother tighter. 

“I’ll stay right here, I won’t ever leave you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Shh Bellamy, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Clarke held a fist to her mouth to stop any noise from coming out. She had to stop this.

......................................................

Clarke came bursting into the Chancellors office, bursting with fear and anger. She stomped into the room, hands clenched at her sides.  
“You can’t let them hurt him.”

The Chancellor lifted his head, an apology already in his eyes. She interrupted him before he had the chance to confess how much he agreed with her.

“He thought he was protecting us, he didn’t know. You can’t let them torture him, please.”

She had tears in her eyes and cracks in her voice, her hands shook and she bit her lip to stop it doing the same.

“Clarke, I’ll do everything I can to protect him but the crowd won’t calm down until everyone involved has been punished. I didn’t want this to happen. I don’t want to start our new world with laws of torture and execution, but it’s not me doing this. It’s them.”

The Arkers, the crowds, were the ones chanting and commanding the guards. Kane couldn’t control them, he could only hope they would calm once their blood lust had been filled. 

He looked sadly at Clarke as tears fell from her eyes, because she knew it too. Even the Commander of Death couldn’t stop the mob of people that thirsted for vengeance. 

“Please.” 

She whimpered once more, desperate to save her wounded soldier. 

Kane looked away from her grief, staring down at his white knuckles on the metal desk. 

“I’ll convince them to leave him till last. Maybe they’ll tire of the screams before then and let him go. I’m sorry Clarke, that’s all I can do.”

Clarke shook her head and left, trying not to drown in her tears. Bellamy had hardly been able to breathe when they found out what was going to happen, how was he going to survive this? How would they survive without him?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!!!!  
> this is pretty graphic and gruesome so if you don't think you want to read this chapter that's totally okay I want everyone safe. It's really mean and sad and there is torture involved so please be careful reading it

The screaming was endless. They tore through the air, sending shivers down spines. Some enjoyed watching the torture play on, mobs of crowds gathering around the beams that the prisoners were tied to. Grounders had come to watch the spectacle, cheering the guards on. Twenty shock lashes for each of Pikes men. The grounders had asked for more but Abby insisted they would die, not that the grounders cared. 

Pike had been first, tied to the wooden posts with his chin raised. He thought himself a martyr, and Octavia couldn’t help but want more lashes for that sick twisted man. Four of his men had gone after him, all screaming in agony as their skin was burnt and split apart. One of them had died after nineteen, his body slumping in the ropes, arms twisting and breaking from the dropped weight of his body.   
He was dragged away and the next was brought forward. 

Clarke felt like throwing up. When had their people become so savage? Humans were so intent on saving their race they gave up their humanity to do so. Maybe the human race wasn’t worth saving. Not at that cost.

Clarke and Octavia were trying to keep Bellamy from hearing it, but the screams made their way through the walls, echoing in their metal cell. Bellamy was shaking, trying to keep his breathing even but every time he heard those screams he was brought back to Mount Weather. 

Images flashed on the backs of his eyelids and shadows turned into mountain men until he could no longer catch his breath. Images of Fox, drained and dead, in the waste chute. Her slim, gangly limbs splayed and twisted, stained with blood and bruises. Screams of his people, kids, being drilled into and harvested. The memories were sharp in his head and he buried his hands into his hair, wanting to pull the images from his mind like weeds. 

It was torture enough to listen to the screams and know that he would be one of them. His injured, slow healing ribs, protested his gasping breaths and his sister sat and held his hand as she spoke to him. 

“We’ll figure something out, Bell. It’s going to be okay. Slow your breathing down.”

The grounder girl had already suggested they escape with Bellamy, into the woods, until the crowd calmed down. They had talked about running but there was already a guard outside the cell, watching too closely to try anything, his gun aimed and ready. Octavia wanted to kill the guard where he stood, looking at her brother with that much hatred and disgust. She would kill anyone that tried to take her brother from her. 

The screams carried on for hours until finally they stopped. There was usually a brief pause between victims but there was nothing but heavy footsteps coming down the hall and the shouts of Abby Griffin. 

“You can’t take him, he’s a child! It wasn’t his fault, you can’t do this! Let go of me. Clarke!”

Four guards marched to their cell, one of them already manhandling Abby into staying still. Clarke took in a deep breath. They were coming for Bellamy. 

The men had their guns aimed and they knew the girls would fight them. The lead man spoke, voice firm and cold.

“Hand over the prisoner.”

Clarke and Octavia stood in front of Bellamy as he backed into the cell, shielding him from their guns aim. 

“You aren’t taking him.”

His gun aimed higher, at Clarke's head, eye trained on his target. 

“Hand over the prisoner, or you will be detained.”

Octavia poised herself ready for a fight as one of the guards came to the door. Sliding her hand to the small of her back where she kept her hidden knives. Clarke kept talking, hands in front of her as she tried to get them to see reason.

“He has PTSD, that’s what made him do those things. You wouldn’t blame a blind person for not being able to see. It wasn’t his fault, you’re going to punish someone who’s sick.”

The guard inched closer, gun aimed and movements slow, turning the lock and opening the door. Octavia charged, knocking the gun from his hands and slashing the knife across his chest, he fell to the floor, blood pooling as he groaned. She meant to wound, not kill, she didn’t need her brother to see anymore dead bodies. 

Abby screamed and the guards trained their guns on the grounder girl. 

“Drop your weapon or we will shoot!” 

She prepared to throw the knife again when Bellamy whimpered her name from behind her. She was momentarily distracted, and a guard moved forward, smacking her in the face with the butt of his gun before disarming her and wrapping an arm around her neck. 

Another man came in and took Clarke, forcing her arm behind her back as she protested and struggled. Octavia jabbed an elbow into the stomach of the man holding her but was punched again by the Sargent. 

She could do nothing but struggle as the monstrous man walked to her brother. 

Bellamy’s eyes went wide when the guard approached, backing himself into a corner before lunging forward and throwing a fist into the mans face. The Sargent’s face snapped backwards and he shook his head, grunting at his broken nose. Spitting blood, he approached the soldier once more, dodging his next punch and throwing one of his own into the boy’s damaged ribs. Bellamy crumpled to the floor with a yell of pain as Clarke screamed. 

“Stop! Please! He won’t survive all twenty shocks, you’re going to kill him!”

The last guard came in and took one of Bellamy’s arms as the Sargent took his other side, blood still trailing from his nose as they dragged Bellamy to his feet and marched him from the cell. The boys feet dragged along the floor as he sagged in their grip, he was winded, vision blurred as he sucked air into his burning chest. 

Clarke screamed and struggled and Octavia grunted in the guards hold. They were dragged out with Bellamy, sunlight blinding them momentarily as they were taken outside. 

The beams and ropes were coated in blood from the struggles of those that had been tied to it before him, and the crowd looked eager to see their last victim squirm. 

Bellamy found his voice as soon as he saw the beams, kicking out and pulling back on the men’s hold. 

“No! No, please! I can’t do it again! I’m begging you, please! Don’t do this!” 

The images in front of Bellamy flickered, from beams and crowds to cages and hooks. Spraying water and stinging powders. Tubes and wires, lifeless eyes of the drained and dead. 

He screamed, terrified, as the past invaded the present. But still they dragged him on and tied his wrists to the beams. He pulled and struggled, tearing open his skin in his desperation to escape. The red of his blood stabbed at his mind turning the crowd into a sea of his victims. 

Clarke watched through tear blurred eyes as Bellamy screamed. Monty’s face looked at her in horror from amid the crowd. She could see delinquents in the groups of people, shaking their heads and looking sick. This was their leader, the one that saved them and took them home. Some of them left, muttering about how they couldn’t watch this one. Clarke screamed at them as they left. 

“You aren’t going to do anything? He saved you! He’s hurt, don’t let them kill him!”

Octavia threw insults to everyone watching, remarking at their sadistic tastes in harming children. 

Bellamy was still struggling, begging for someone to help him, when the grounder stepped forwards. He had his war paint on, armor in full, and he had taken the role of punisher, for it was his people Pikes men had killed. His blood stained hands gripped Bellamy’s shirt and tore it in half, dropping the shreds to the ground. 

There were gasps then as his scars and bruises were revealed. Deep black painted his torso, chest dipping a little on one side where the Sargent had re-broken his ribs. And the scars from Mount Weather were clearly visible in the daylight, memories of tubes and burns branded on his skin for everyone to see. 

More people started shaking their heads, he was in bad shape, and surely they couldn’t give him twenty shocks. The boy was hyperventilating in his binds, chest heaving as he waited for the first touch of electricity. 

The grounder took his weapon from his belt and pressed it to the boy’s skin. Octavia could hear the sizzling from where she stood, even over Bellamy’s pained yell. The electricity made his chest muscles tense, squeezing his broken ribs and making the bones grind. His vision was white with pain after the fourth shock. 

He could hear yelling, his sisters and Clarkes, but couldn’t open his eyes to see them. He could feel the hot, burning pain of the shocks as they burnt his skin. The smell of it was the worst, curling up his nose and making him want to vomit. 

He could hear Abby Griffin yelling too, and the voice of Marcus Kane rising above the noise of the crowd. 

Clarke watched as Bellamy dragged in shallow breaths between shocks, they were up to ten now and he could barely stay on his feet. His eyes were shut and he was covered in sweat, blood slipping down his arms from the restraints. She couldn’t believe they were being this cruel. She didn’t know how much more he could take.

People in the crowd were growing uneasy. He was in much worse shape than the other men had been and while they had yelled about the duty they had carried out, this boy was mumbling apologies through his struggled gasps. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I tried to save them, I’m sorry. Please stop.”

He was growing weaker and Clarke didn’t know if he was apologizing for the grounder army, the people blown up in Mount Weather or the delinquents killed by the mountain men. Tears continued their trek down her cheeks and she pulled again at the guards hold on her as she tried to get to her soldier. 

Delinquents were trying to get to their leader now, Harper and Miller pushing past people to get to Bellamy. Monty was already at the posts, being shoved back by guards. Octavia could see the anger on his face as he started yelling.

“That’s enough! You can’t kill him, it wasn’t his fault. He saved all of us!”

Miller was pulling a gun from his waist and Harper had hers already in hand. More people from the crowd started protesting the shocks. Bellamy was still letting out apologies and pleas and it was becoming clear that this torture was not deserved. As more people asked for the punishment to end, grounders came to the front and pushed them back. Guards started to panic as it became clear who was in charge. And they would not be stopping.

Bellamy’s shock lashes became longer, held to his skin till he screamed before being taken away. His whole body arched at the electricity passed through him. The guards had just begun aiming their weapons at the grounders when the fifteenth shock was delivered. 

Bellamy let out a weak yell of pain and slumped in the restraints, body completely slack. Octavia let out a gasp as Clarke started to panic. He wasn’t moving. One of his wrists was twisted and pulled at a painful angle as his arms bared the full weight of him. 

The crowd went silent, waiting for any indication of life. Clarke broke free of the guard’s hands and sprinted for Bellamy, choking on a sob as she saw, up close, the damage done to him. He would be forever covered in scars, if he lived. 

Shaking hands pressed fingers to his neck. She held her breath as she felt Octavia appear beside her. 

 

It was thrumming, too fast and uneven, but it was there. 

“He’s alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo sorrry im so mean to poor Bellamy. I was gonna go for a cliffhanger at the end but decided it would be too mean


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is short and took so bloody long thank you for everyone that has kept reading this you're all amazing and I appreciate all the kudos and comments I love them so much. Also if I take too long with a chapter just come to my tumblr and tell me to get my butt back to writing my url is the same as my author name

“He’s alive.”

Octavia let out a sob of relief at Clarke's words and dropped to her knees to take her brothers face in her hands. He was slick with sweat and his panting, shallow breaths were strained as they blew air across Octavia’s cheek. She pressed her forehead to his to whisper to him.

“I’m here Bell, I’m right here. I won’t leave you.”

Clarke began working on the restraints around his wrists, tears blurring her eyes as she saw the damage done to his skin at his desperate attempts to be free. Monty, Harper and Miller appeared at her side and though Clarke could hear the scuffle from the guards taking out the grounders, she focused solely on her friends.

“Someone needs to hold him up so that I can get these off and we need a stretcher to take him to medical.”

Miller nodded, quickly standing in front of Bellamy. Octavia moved for him and he crouched to take his arms around Bellamy’s damaged chest, hugging the older boy and lifting him so that his arms weren’t bearing his weight. 

Clarke and Octavia quickly undid his binds while Monty and Harper ran off to fetch a stretcher. 

Once untied, Miller lowered the Blake to the ground, holding him as his knees folded. Bellamy’s head rested forwards on Millers shoulder and Clarke pressed careful fingers to his ribs, checking the breaks made by the guards hit. It was a small relief to find no evidence of a pierced lung and she sighed as her mother and Kane appeared beside her. 

“How’s he doing?” Clarke looked at her in worry. 

“Breathing's shallow and uneven, he’s having real trouble pulling in any air at all. His pulse is weak and erratic. At least two of his ribs have been re-broken and I think his left wrist is dislocated and that’s on top of the lacerations around both.”

Abby nodded at her daughter’s grim expression, watching as Octavia held her big brothers hand. 

“We’ll get him cleaned up and take care of him. After what just happened I think it’s safe to say Bellamy won’t have to stay in a cell anymore.” 

Clarke nodded gratefully. The crowds were dispersed now, Kane having ordered them back to work, and so the path to the stage was clear for Harper and Monty as they returned with the stretcher. 

Bellamy was nothing but dead weight as they lifted him onto the stretcher and he was out of it enough not to wake up or move as they did so. Clarke could practically feel his ribs spreading and shifting, knowing how painful it would be if he was awake to feel it. He couldn’t be placed on his back because of the damage the shock lashes had done but laying him on his front wasn’t the best option either. 

They carried their cargo to the med bay, Abby clearing a space for him on one of the beds. Once transferred, everyone but Clarke, Abby and Octavia stayed. Kane put a hand on Octavia’s shoulder where she sat beside her brother, his hand still in hers. 

“I’m sorry this happened. I would have stopped it if I could have.”

She shook his hand off and he sighed, whole frame sagging in shame. Clarke gave him a small smile of thanks as he left. 

Her mother was running around grabbing things but Clarke could hardly think straight. If Bellamy was having nightmares and panic attacks before this she couldn’t imagine how bad he would be once awoke. 

She reminded herself that it would be easier on him to simply be away from that cold cell and the company of Pike and his men. He would have actual medical help, his other friends, a bed. It wasn’t just her and Octavia with him anymore, they had their friends to help. 

Octavia was whispering things to her brother, cheek pressed to his open palm as she held his hand to her face. She was smoothing back his hair, brushing gentle fingers across his cheeks, pecking kisses to his fingers. 

“I’m here Bell, I’m not leaving, just like I promised. You’ll be okay, you’re safe now.”

Clarke watched as his fingers moved across his sister’s cheek, head rolling across the pillow from where he lay on his side on the bed.   
Octavia gasped and Clarke darted forward. 

“Bellamy?”

He grunted in pain, his eyebrows scrunching over his closed eyes, his ragged breathing coming quicker as he whimpered. 

“It’s okay Bellamy, I know it hurts. We’ll get you all fixed up okay?” Octavia said the words before Clarke could force them from her tear choked throat.

Clarke’s eyes filled with tears again as he sobbed his sisters name. He was in pain and confused, and so scared. His good hand shook against Octavia’s tear stained cheek and the other was trembling where it was curled against his ribs, still dislocated. 

His whole body was tensing as he writhed and shifted, trying to escape the pain that covered every bone, every muscle, and every inch of skin he had. 

“O, it hurts. Please..”

Octavia took a breath and spoke, her voice shaking. 

“It’s okay. I’m here Bell. Clarke’s here too. We won’t leave okay?”

Clarke nodded, though his eyes were still closed, and forced her words through. 

“We’ll take care of you, Bellamy. It’ll all be okay. We’ll get you some pain meds soon, just try to breathe.”

She crept closer, placing a hand on his damp head of curls and kissed his pain wrinkled forehead. 

She whispered, her voice full of tears and soaked in grief. 

“I’m so sorry Bellamy.”

She had promised to protect him and he had been hurt, again. 

Abby came to them then, hands full of things they needed, and she dropped them all on a side table before picking up an IV bag and a syringe. She took one of Bellamy’s arms and quietly placed the needle, taping it in place. Her hands were efficient and calm, skilled enough to spare Bellamy any more pain. She hung the IV bag and injected a pain killer, nodding to Clarke once it was in. 

The drugs swam through the Blake’s veins, un-clenching every muscle and easing him into a slump on the bed. He relaxed into the sheets and sighed a little as the pain slipped away. His eyelids flickered as he opened his eyes, bright irises muddied with the fog of drugs. 

He looked at the two of them, eyes sweeping over them with a glazed and relaxed daze, lips lifting in the whisper of a smile before he sighed again, eyes slipping shut. 

Octavia closed her eyes and rested her forehead against her brothers, completely exhausted. She lent back after a moment, looking at Clarke as Abby began treating the boys back. 

“He’s not in any pain now? He’ll sleep through it all?”

Clarke nodded and stood to help her mother. 

“Yeah, he should sleep through everything. We might need to keep him out for a while to get everything set and patched up so you can take one of the beds and sleep if you want.”

The grounder shook her head, holding tightly onto her brother’s hand. 

“No, thanks. I’ll stay with him. I promised.” She took a breath and ducked her head in guilt. 

“I also promised I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. I guess I lied.”

Clarke shook her head as she took one of Bellamy’s hands to clean the lacerations around his wrists. 

“You did everything you could to stop them. We all did. All we can do now is keep our promise to take care of him. He knows you tried, Octavia. And he’s your big brother, he loves you no matter what.”

The girl nodded and wiped her eyes. 

Clarke held her soldiers dislocated wrist in her hands, cleaning the wounds as carefully as she could before she set the joint back into place. Bellamy had been hurt again and again. He was soft and kind and gentle and he would do anything to protect the ones he loved. And here he was again, bearing the scars he didn’t deserve, and living the nightmares that haunted him enough in his dreams. 

Clarke and her mother patched him up; setting breaks and binding ribs, cleaning wounds and covering burns, but not once throughout the whole night did Clarke’s eyes run dry.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!:  
> this chapter has a panic attack in it so if it will make you feel panicky or uncomfortable then skip that part

Bellamy slept for three days before Abby reduced his sedatives, Clarke and Octavia waiting by his side when he woke. 

“I’m going to keep the IV in, the meds will keep him calm and out of pain so he might be a little out of it but I think that’s for the best right now anyway.”

Octavia held her brothers hand and stroked his hair back as he shifted restlessly in the bed. They were keeping him on his side while his back healed and Clarke had to keep a hand on his shoulder to stop him from rolling back. Bellamy sighed a breath and his eyelids flickered. Both girls crept closer as they waited with baited breath. 

When his glazed eyes finally opened Octavia let out a huff of air, halfway between a sob and a laugh. 

“Hey, you. How are you feeling?”

Bellamy just blinked his heavy lids as a dopey smile fell across his face. When he finally spoke his voice was rough and slurred.

“Hey ‘Tavie.”

Octavia laughed and shook her head, fingers stroking back the curls on her brother’s forehead. 

“You haven’t called me that since I was little, Bell.”

Bellamy laughed, soft and slow as he gazed up at his little sister with adoring eyes.

“You were so cute when you were little. Tiny toes, little chubby cheeks. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you so much O, you know that right?”  
The girl smiled at her drugged up, sappy big brother and squeezed his hand.

“I know. I love you too. And I won’t leave you, okay? I’m gonna stay here and take care of you. Cause you are my favorite big brother ever.”

His words were slurring more harshly now but he was determined to speak. “I’m your only big brother.”

Octavia shrugged. “That’s what made it so easy to choose you.”

He laughed again, eyes barely open as Octavia’s hand ran through his hair, lulling him back to sleep with a smile on his face. The other Blake lent forward and pressed a kiss on his forehead, receiving a happy sigh in return. 

Clarke pulled the blanket higher on the boy’s shoulder and smiled at his peaceful expression, the first she’d seen since coming back to camp. He’d been hurting for so long and now he was finally able to rest. He was finally smiling, even if it was in sleep.

Octavia sagged in her chair, exhausted as the burden of worry was taken from her shoulders, and Clarke put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Octavia smiled as she looked at the young medic. 

“I never thought I’d see him smile again. I almost forgot what it looked like. Did you see his eyes? He looked happy, like himself again.”

She lay her cheek against his shoulder as she closed her eyes, giving him the closest thing to a hug she could manage without hurting his back. 

“Now we just have to figure out how to get it back without the drugs in him.”

Clarke nodded, eyes misting as she tried to hold the memory of his flashing dimples, the freckles across his nose scrunching as he laughed. 

“We’ll get him there. Mom will probably keep him on a low level sedative even once he’s up and about to help with his anxiety. There are techniques to help with PTSD and he won’t be alone or in a cell anymore. He’ll get better, even if it takes a while.”

Octavia opened her eyes a crack to look at the blonde with a gaze soaked in gratitude. 

“Thank you Clarke. For everything you’ve done for him, and for bringing me back to him. I can’t thank you enough.”

Clarke took another blanket and draped it around the small girl’s shoulders.

“There’s no need to. I already owe more to Bellamy than I can make up for.”   
………………….

“Bellamy, hold still for just a little longer, I need to rewrap these ribs of yours.”

The boy fidgeted, scrunching his hands into fists and tapping his feet against the floor from where he sat on the small chair someone had made for the Doctors office. He had sessions with Abby and Dr Chambers every morning but it was hard to concentrate on anything the man was saying while his ribs were being squeezed. 

He had been officially released from the infirmary a week ago and he was now living with Clarke and his sister in a cabin that Miller and the other delinquents helped to build while he was recovering. Abby gave him medicine to take each morning that helped to keep the roaring anxiety in his head to a low hum and his sessions with Dr Chambers helped him learn how to deal with everything else. 

Abby finished up and patted him on the shoulder before taking her leave, leaving Bellamy with the therapist.

The Doctor spoke in his low rumble of a voice, it’s soothing tone always having a calming effect on the soldier. 

“Want to do your affirmations today?”

Bellamy nodded. The Doctor had taught him to say affirmations to himself, statements that helped him to focus and re-center himself whenever he felt lost or down. He had them all written down and pinned to the wall beside his bed, so that he could say them every morning or so that Octavia and Clarke could say them to him when it was too hard to do it himself.

“I acknowledge and accept what I’ve done. My past does not define me. My guilt does not define me. I am worthy of love and forgiveness. I….”

The next ones were harder but the kind man in front of him nodded in encouragement, never pushing.

“I forgive myself for all that I’ve done. I love and accept all parts of myself. I am getting better every day.”

Bellamy took a deep breath and let it out along with any negative thoughts he had woken up with, allowing himself to let it all go. He had thought it was stupid at first, all this positive energy crap but he had continued at Octavia’s insistence and Clarke's doctor talk.

“It will help refocus things, help you to concentrate on what’s important. Studies have shown that patients that think positively and go to therapy have a shorter recovery period and a better outcome.”

So he had gone and surprisingly felt a lot better after talking through everything with someone who knew what they were doing. Even the silly things helped. Smiling at himself in a mirror every morning while doing his affirmations, which according to Clarke, helped provide ‘happy hormones’ as she called them. 

“Seeing someone smile and smiling yourself can give you hormones which improve your mood, so it’s really not as stupid as you might think it is.”

The Doctor smiled kindly at him as Bellamy tried to breathe around the tight bandages around his torso. 

“So, how are you doing this morning Bellamy? Any nightmares last night?”

The boy nodded, squeezing his hands together as flashes of memory flickered, sharp in his mind.

“Yeah, the same one as the night before.”

“Your loved ones telling you they hated you.”

He nodded again, his head low. “They called me a monster.”

“You know that isn’t true Bellamy. What happened was unfortunate and it left scars, both literal and figurative. But it was beyond your control and you cannot be held fully responsible for your actions.”

The Blake looked up at the other man’s sincere eyes. They had talked about it a little already but he couldn’t shake off the guilt of everything that he’d done.  
“But I did all those things. I made the choice to follow Pike and … And I killed all those people. How is that not my fault?”

Dr Chambers nodded, patiently listening and choosing his words to make the soldier understand. 

“Bellamy, when someone is drunk the alcohol takes away all inhibitions so suddenly it seems like a good idea to do something they wouldn’t normally. A usually quiet person might decide to talk to someone they were too scared of before, some kids decide that running around naked is a good option. Their brain is altered and so they can’t properly make choices in the same way they would when they were sober. 

PTSD is similar but in a more extreme manner. Your brain was altered by the stress and trauma you endured and so your choices weren’t fully yours.  
Anyone that knows you would agree you would never harm anyone without due reason. And when you chose to go with Pike and attack the grounder army you saw them as a threat because the PTSD made it seem as though everyone was. You just wanted to keep everyone safe. You thought you were doing what was right even though you didn’t like the idea of hurting people. The PTSD made it more difficult to think things through with reason. 

You wouldn’t allow a drunk kid to make life altering decisions would you? You wouldn’t blame them for making the wrong choice because they’re minds were altered.”

Bellamy begrudgingly nodded, understanding the man’s point but unable to align it to himself.

“I thought I was protecting them…”

The doctor nodded.

“But the army was asleep. They were there to protect us. They were innocent.”

“Yes and you can see that clearly now because you are getting better but before, when Pike gave you a loaded gun and told you that they were dangerous you could only think about protecting your people.”

Bellamy sighed.

“I just don’t know if I can put the blame on anyone but myself.”

The doctor shuffled forward and placed a slow, gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“This isn’t about assigning blame, but if you need to in order to heal then you can blame the PTSD. How about we add another affirmation to the list every morning? I make mistakes because I am human. I am a good person who deserves happiness.”

Bellamy took a breath and repeated the words.

“I make mistakes because I am human. I am a good person who deserves happiness.”

After the session was finished Bellamy met Clarke where she was waiting outside.

“Hey, how’d it go today?”

She took his hand as they started walking, her gentle fingers twinging with his rough ones. It was sometimes hard to remember that touch could be kind but the blonde made it easier and he allowed a smile to creep onto his face as she looked at him.

“It was good; I have some affirmations to add to my list but I can do it after lunch. We talked about the nightmare and some other stuff.” 

Clarke smiled and it made Bellamy’s chest hurt a little to see how much love she looked at him with. 

“That’s great Bellamy. I’m so proud of you.”

Dr Chambers voice came through his head. ‘I am deserving of love and forgiveness.’

“Thanks Clarke.”

“So do you think you’ll sleep tonight?”

She asked him this carefully, not wanting to push the issue. Sometimes he refused to sleep or eat, the flashbacks and panic attacks or heavy guilt being too much for him to contend with. He nodded, reluctant but she broke out into a wide smile all the same. 

“That’s good Bell, thank you.”

Bellamy squeezed her hand and followed her to the cabin. 

“So how was your morning?”

Clarkes answer was cut off as a loud bang shot through the air, followed by a peal of laughter from a child. Some of the kids were playing on a pile of scrap, chasing each other around the mountain of metal.

Bellamy’s head snapped to the sound, chest tightening as flashes of memory spun in his mind. Gun shots. Screams. 

“Bellamy?”

Another bang, another scream. Bellamy pushed Clarke behind him, protecting her from the danger his mind was perceiving. Her hand was on his arm.

“Bellamy it’s okay, everything’s okay.”

Another bang, louder than the rest, rang through the warm air and Bellamy’s breathing sped to a dangerous pace. He tried to speak through his gasps.

“I… it’s not..”

His hand reached for the weapons he no longer carried and Clarke took his hands instead, coming to stand in front of him as his glazed eyes flickered frantically, searching for threats. 

“Bellamy, we’re safe. You’re safe.”

He was hyperventilating and he flinched back as another bang met his ears. He whimpered, finally focusing on Clarke enough to recognize what was happening. The girl guided him to the ground, sitting on the grass and kneeling down in front of him.

She spoke slowly and clearly, voice soft and calm. He held her hand with both of his, desperately grasping at her as he tried to breathe. There was movement to his right and he jerked back, eyes opening briefly to see Clarke gesturing to Miller. He closed his eyes again as the other boy ran off to get the kids away from the metal, and he felt Clarke’s hand squeezing his as the noise stopped.

“Bellamy, everything is alright. So we are going to sit here for a little while until you feel better. We’re safe.” She brought his hands to her stomach, pressing them against the fabric of her shirt so that he could feel the slow rise and fall of her breath. 

The soldier concentrated on the rhythmic movement, taking one of his hands and placing it at her collarbone to feel the beat of her heart. The steady pace helped him focus and slow down until there was nothing in the world but him and Clarke. 

Nothing but the beat of her heart and the pace of her breath rising under his fingertips. He blocked out everything else, not even recognizing the passage of time as he calmed.   
After a time, when his breathing was back to normal and he felt safe again, he opened his eyes and looked at Clarke. Her bright eyes full of patience and kindness so that he could hardly feel embarrassed for the scene he had made.

He let his hands slip from her, sighing as he slumped down into the grass, allowing all of his tense muscles relax as he lay back in the sun.

Clarke stroked his hair back and lay beside him on the grass, taking his hand in hers again.

Bellamy watched the white clouds drift in the blue sky, slow and gentle. His hands were still shaking from his panic attack but if he just watched the clouds and let Clarke hold his hand it didn’t really matter.

“You okay now?”

He nodded at Clarke's question, not wanting to speak after being so vulnerable just minutes before.

“You wanna stay here for a little bit? We don’t need to meet your sister for lunch for another half hour. It’s nice here anyway.”

He nodded again and rolled his head to the side to look at Clarke as her hair spilled out behind her on the grass. 

She looked so beautiful and peaceful laying there, their hands clasped together as the sun warmed their skin, making Bellamy feel as though he were glowing with the soft heat. He allowed himself a small smile.

“Thanks Clarke.”

She looked at him, happy that he was okay, or getting there. 

“No problem Bellamy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos I love them so much! let me know what you think of this sorry the panic attack scene kind of felt too rushed at the end? anyway I'm not sure if there will be another chapter or not. Let me know what the next chapter should be if you want one


	11. Chapter 11

Bellamy sat at the table, staring down into his food as his hands shook beside him. Meat and veggies laying untouched.

"Hey man, you okay?"

It was Miller, worried but toning down his concern as much as he could so as not to irritate his friend. Bellamy was used to it by now, he could hardly notice right now anyway.   
The Blake shook his head, not lifting his eyes from the rabbit meat in his bowl. 

The other boy sat down in front of him, his ever patient nature sending a little bit of calm into Bellamy's trembling hands.

"What's goin' on?" 

Bellamy wasn't sure he could explain. Usually Clarke or Octavia sat with him during meals but they had both been busy and unable to get out of whatever meetings they had been called to. They had apologized profusely of course but he said he'd be fine. Guess not. 

"I... I just can't um." 

He gestured to the bowl, the slab of rabbit meat laying in a small pool of its own blood/gravy. Miller leaned over to look at the offending food and nodded. 

"Ahh. They told me you don't eat meat anymore. I thought the cook knew that. Isn't he supposed to remember that sort of thing?"

Bellamy looked up at the other boy in surprise, momentarily distracting him from the sight of the dead animal. 

"You guys talk about me?" 

This question made Miller both pleased and a little guilty. He'd gotten Bellamy to speak but now he had to admit they all talked about him and he hated making the former soldier feel babied. 

"We're all worried about you man. We just want to help you where we can. You've protected us since we first landed I think it's well past due we return the favor. So if keeping work noise to a minimum and taking the meat out of your meals helps then that's what we'll do." 

Bellamy watched the sincerity and kindness in Millers eyes. There was no pity, no walking on eggshells just patience and understanding. 

"Thanks. It does. Help. I just can't.... The meat is too close to.."

He couldn't explain. Dr Chambers said it was okay, that it didn't have to make sense right now. Bellamy just couldn't stomach the thought of eating meat that had been torn from the bones of some innocent animal. It just seemed unnecessarily .... Monstrous? 

He wasn't even sure what he had been about to say to Miller. The meat was too close to what? The corpses he'd left behind after he killed that army? The strewn remains of their people after the explosion in mount weather? 

He looked down at his plate again, feeling nauseous. Miller quickly pulled the bowl away. 

"No worries, Bellamy. I'll go get you something else okay? Just wait here I'll be back in a minute." 

The boy walked off and Bellamy tried to shake off the memories and images clouding his mind. Chunks of Gina thrown against walls as that mountain exploded. Their friends, their people, left in pieces, strewn about in the fire. 

His mind was too loud, his thoughts sharp and obtrusive. His breaths came quick and heaving, leaving him breathless and gasping all at once. 

Bellamy whimpered, already so tired. He put his shaking hands to his hair, grasping and pulling at the strands. 

"Oh fuck, no. Not again." 

He couldn't eat lunch alone without having a panic attack, he was too hot and too trapped and he couldn't breathe. 

His breath was so loud it came whistling through his teeth and a few people turned to look at him as he struggled to gain control. 

Miller came sprinting back, placing a new dish on the table and racing to Bellamy’s side. 

"Hey, what's happening? Are you okay? Is this a panic attack?" 

Bellamy whimpered again, not having enough air to speak. Miller took it as a yes and cursed under his breath. 

"Okay, what did Clarke tell me to do? Umm.. Shit okay, slow calm tone. Everything's okay Bellamy, you're safe. Everything's okay." 

Bellamy tugged at his hair again and let out a noise between a grunt and a scream. 

Miller was freaking out, he didn't know what to do, he only knew what he'd seen Clarke and Octavia do and what Clarke had told him. 

"It'll sometimes get too loud for him. There's too much going on and he can't shut any of it out. Try to get him somewhere quiet and give him something slow and rhythmic to concentrate on. Like a heartbeat or a pattern." 

Miller took a few deep breaths and tugged Bellamy’s hands down from his head. 

"Hey, come on, stop that. You're gonna hurt yourself." 

He pulled one of the boy’s hands to his chest, pressing it flat against the material to rest over the thump of his heart. 

"I'm going to cover your ears, to make it a bit quieter for you. And we're gonna start counting to ten. Just keep counting with me okay?"

Bellamy nodded, gripping one of Millers wrists as it came up to cover his ears. Millers voice was close to his face as he counted, muffled as all other noise was blocked by his hands. 

Dr chambers had told Bellamy to think about a shape or an ocean or a flower that would slowly grow and shrink as he counted. Like a fist slowly opening into a stretched hand. Opening from one to five and as he counted from five to ten it would curl into a slow fist again. 

Bellamy listened to Miller count and rhythmically squeezed and released the boy’s wrist, following the count. 

He wasn't sure how long it took, it felt much longer than last time. But after a while Bellamy found himself with enough air to count out loud. 

His eyes opened and he allowed his hands to fall to his lap as Miller removed his. He was so tired, shaking and exhausted. His face was wet though he didn't remember the act of crying. 

Miller bent down to meet his eyes but Bellamy avoided his gaze.  
"Octavia's here." 

Miller pointed past Bellamy, behind his left shoulder and the boy turned to see the pinched, worried face of his little sister. 

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here with you Bellamy. It's all okay now." 

He was so, so tired. His mind was calmer now, no longer a tangled mess of memories and anxiety and he was left sapped of all energy. Bellamy let out an unhappy sigh and curled into his sister’s arms where she held him to her, running a hand through his hair. 

"It's been a long day huh?" 

Bellamy said nothing, not even nodding. He simply curled tighter to her, unwilling to come out from his hiding spot in her arms.   
Bellamy wasn't even sure how many people were around, all he felt was Octavia’s arms around him and Millers hand on his back. 

The younger Blake started talking to someone, her chest rumbling against Bellamy’s, and soon the voice came closer. 

"Bellamy? Would you like to come out and talk about what happened?"

It was Dr Chambers but Bellamy was all out of words for today. He shook his head. 

"Is it okay if I talk to Miller and your sister about it?"

Bellamy nodded this time but turned his face away from the therapist, making it clear that they could talk but he wasn't going to be involved.   
Octavia squeezed him tighter, laying a comforting hand in his hair, fingers moving through the curls to soothe him. 

“Miller, do you know what caused the upset? You said it was the meat, Bellamy and I have talked a bit about that but do you know any specifics?”

They were talking in hushed tones but Bellamy could still hear them. He did his best to block them out, reciting lines from the Iliad and other pieces of poetry his mother used to read to him, in his head.

“No, he said something about it looking too much like something? He was really freaking out, I mean like, screaming and pulling at his hair bad. I think he might have said Gina’s name. I couldn’t get him to listen to me but I did that heartbeat thing and counted and he started to calm down a bit.”

The boy sighed, his voice dipping lower. 

“I wanted to help, I tried but it still took him like an hour to calm down. I thought he was gonna pass out.”

Dr Chambers voice came through, smooth and calm as ever.

“You did great. He needed patience and support and that’s what you gave him. He has issues with certain things triggering different memories and so it’s sometimes hard to separate reality from those flashbacks. Though today has been difficult for him he has actually been making some great progress. I think for now though it might be best to simply let him rest.”

Bellamy yawned as Octavia’s hands rubbed over his back.  
“Thank you. I’ll take him back to the cabin and get him to rest. Thank you for helping Miller. I know it can be overwhelming.”

“No problem. Like I told him, he protected us for so long. Now it’s our turn to do that for him.”

Bellamy felt the boys hand pat his shoulder as he took his leave and heard the therapist’s footsteps retreating. Everything was quiet and calm and the Blake didn’t feel so suffocated now that it was just him and his sister.

“Bell? You wanna go to bed? Clarke should be done with her meeting and I’m sure she’d like to see you.” 

The boy nodded and reluctantly pulled himself from his sister’s arms. He held her hand as she led him back to their cabin, Bellamy keeping his head low as they walked. So many people had been around when he’d had his freak out and he was embarrassed. 

He was happy to be inside their small home and went quickly to bed, curling up under the covers as he trembled. It always took a while to completely calm down and relax after a big panic attack and he was so tired all he really wanted to do was sleep. 

Clarke came home a few minutes later and Bellamy could hear Octavia talking to her before they both came in. Clarke sat on the edge of the Blake’s bed and ran a hand through his hair, bending down to kiss his temple. 

“Hey Bellamy, I missed you today.”

He didn’t reply, only rolling a little towards her to show he was listening, back pressing against her legs as a silent way of saying he’d missed her too.  
She sighed. “Not talking?”

Bellamy shook his head and peeked a look up at her. She didn’t look mad or even disappointed. She looked sad though; she could see how tired he was and she hated seeing him so shaken that he wouldn’t speak. 

He felt bad and opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He was all used up for the day.   
She gave him a small smile. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk right now. Octavia said you had a hard day.”

Bellamy pressed his face into her open palm and breathed deep. Clarke knew what he meant. 'Yeah, hard day. Glad you’re here though.'

She lent down to kiss his forehead again. 

“Get some rest okay? You can talk to Dr Chambers about it at your session tomorrow and I think my mom was thinking about upping your dosage of medication so that you could feel a little calmer during the day. Does that sound okay? If not, you can talk about it with them tomorrow. Night Bell.”

Bellamy nodded but grabbed her hand when she went to leave. He looked up at her as she gazed down at him with wide blue eyes. God, she was beautiful. Her hair was twisted up into a loose bun to keep it out of her face as she worked and Bellamy could see the curves of her face and the tips of her ears as they turned red. 

Bellamy blinked at her, hoping she would understand what he was asking without him having to say it. Asking for help wasn’t always easy, thankfully Clarke seemed to know what he wanted.

“Okay, I’ll stay. I had a bit of a long day too.”

Clarke slipped under the blankets as Bellamy held them open for her before lying on his side and propping his head up with one hand as he lent in his pillows. He gave her a look like “Tell me about your day.” Clarke laughed a little at his open, interested expression, and snuggled down in the blankets as she settled in to tell him all about it. 

Bellamy listened to her talk, and found that his hands didn’t shake when she held them. He liked hearing about all the people she talked to and everyone she helped. He liked that she knew what he meant when he nodded or raised his eyebrows, without having to say anything. She knew him. Every part of him. She knew about all that he’d done and she knew about his bad days and his fears and his weaknesses and still here she sat, holding his hand and happily telling him about her day. 

Bellamy knew he was broken. There were a lot of parts of him that were cracked or missing and it would take a long time for him to be whole again. But Clarke didn’t seem to mind it at all. She loved him anyway. Not just despite his broken pieces but because of them. She loved the parts of him that he hated and whenever she looked at him with that much love, he thought that maybe he could hate them a little less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another panic attack I know sorry but this one is longer and slightly different so?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was done at the request of a wonderful reader. so thank you for all your support ur the best and I hope I did what you wanted ha let me know!

Leaves and brush crunched under excited feet and Bellamy had to forcefully bring his shoulders down in order to stop flinching at the sounds. Clarke noticed, as his head swung around them, looking for enemies in the trees, and squeezed his hand. 

“It’s okay Bell. These woods are our territory, there’s no one else out here. Just us. We’re safe.”

The boy nodded and breathed, as his shoulders dropped away from their hiked position at his ears. 

“We’re safe. Sorry, I’m trying, it’s just hard.”

Clarke nodded and stepped carefully over a log. “You don’t have to apologize; I know you’re doing your best. You’ve actually done really great today. You’re talking, you had breakfast, and now we’re going for a walk to the river. This is a big step and it’s okay to be nervous.”

Bellamy nodded, his head low. Dr Chambers had said that it was important to celebrate small victories, because even small things can take a lot of effort. Raven had said the same thing. 

“Not everyone gets excited when they go up the stairs but if I can walk up some steps without my leg throwing a hissy fit and giving up, then that’s a victory and I will celebrate my ass off. But no dancing cause my leg is still gonna be an asshole about that.”

Bellamy smiled at the memory and raised his eyes to watch the mechanic step through the foliage, Jasper and Monty chatting at her side. Miller and Bryan were behind Bellamy and Clarke, talking quietly among the foliage. Octavia was winding her way through the trees a little ways ahead of everyone, leading them to the river. She was quiet though and Bellamy knew that the trees reminded her of Lincoln. 

He reached a hand towards the trunk of a tree, pressing his palm to the bark and sending a quiet apology to the long dead grounder. I’m sorry. We miss you. I wish I could have saved you. 

Clarke’s fingers moved between his, their clasped hands a bridge between them, and Bellamy took his hand from the tree as they continued walking. 

“Just thinking about Lincoln.”

The blonde sighed.   
“It’s hard not to.”

They continued to walk, chatting and watching the others laugh as they picked flowers.

Bellamy was uneasy in the woods; the shadows could hide enemies as well as bodies. Images flashes across his vision, arrows embedding themselves in Octavia’s back, Monty being dragged up to the trees, a knife to his throat. 

The boy closed his eyes, pressing his palm to his eyes to rid his mind of the images. Clarke noticed his discomfort and let go of his hand to place her palms on either side of his head. Her lips met his forehead and Bellamy could feel them move as she whispered to him. 

“We’re alright. Everything’s okay. I’m right here Bellamy.”

The Blake took a deep breath and lowered his hands. The images had been sharp and hot, and the pain went away slower than the images did. The forest was green and quiet again, but his body coursed with Adrenalin and he felt jumpy.

Clarke was watching him, patient and calm. He tried for a smile. 

“Sorry. I’m okay now.”

She smiled back and took his hand again to keep going through the forest. His cheeks flushed with colour as she led him through the trees. She was so beautiful and he was so….messy. Her hair was down today, the blonde waves tumbling over her shoulders and they flew around her when she spun her head to watch Monty pull leaves from a tree and throw them over Jasper. 

Bellamy watched a smile warm Clarke’s face, her eyes brightening with a laugh falling from her lips. The former soldier only looking away from her when excited squeals pierced the air.   
Jasper and Monty were racing to the river, pushing each other in and shouting at Raven as she hobbled over stones. Octavia was smiling too, throwing her layers off to dive into the water. 

Clarke tugged on Bellamy’s hand pulling him over the rise to the little beach. Raven was sitting on a rock over the water, her feet dipped in the cold waves, Octavia sitting beside her as they watched the boys dunk each other under. 

Miller ran past Clarke's shoulder, holding a laughing Bryan in his arms as they dove in. 

“Wanna swim Bell?”

Bellamy looked at Clarke's bright face and nodded, letting go of her hand only so they could undress. Clarke took his hand again and pulled him the slowly into the water.  
Memories of his time in the mountain scratched at the walls inside his head and he shivered but kept his eyes on the blonde in front of him. He focused on her eyes, their bright blue, the patience and excitement in them. The feeling of her small hand in his, their fingers tangled together as she pulled him waist deep in water.

Bellamy had many bad memories of water from mount weather. The torture he endured, the cold water shocking and sharp against his bare skin. But Clarke's hand was warm in his own and he found that he was okay here. Laughter rang through the air around him and the flash backs never came. 

He smiled, giddy and rushed forward to wrap his arms around Clarke's waist, feeling his skin press to hers, the warmth in them both, pulling her up and running into the water with her as she squealed. 

A laugh burst from Bellamy’s lips as they splashed into the waves. Clarke clung to him, her hands pressing against the bare skin of his back, the water rushing around them. They were so close Bellamy could feel her chest heave against his, her back moving under his hands, their faces close together. 

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh in a while.”

Bellamy glowed in her hold, and as she tucked her face into his neck, pressed against him, he swore he shone like the sun. He held her as he looked out over the lake, his smile so big it hurt his cheeks. 

Bellamy had laughed. He'd actually laughed. Clarke hadn't heard that in so long she had feared she'd never hear it again. But it came bubbling out of him. Like a surprise he didn't know he held. He was smiling and watching the others play and she was so, so proud of him. 

Today was a good day. 

Octavia called her brother over and he dutifully came to carry Raven into the river, her bad leg was too unstable to allow her to walk through the current so he lifted her and carried her to a rock in the middle of river. Clarke watched his strong arms, the smile that made his freckles dance along his cheeks, the way his curls fell across his forehead.

The sun glinted on his back and Clarke lost her smile. He was covered in scars. Long slashes and stretched out circles covered the skin of his back. From the shock lashes, the torture in mount weather, the wars he'd fought in. 

Some were deep and cruel while others were nothing more than a whisper of memory scratched onto his skin. He had been carved and torn apart and yet here he was. 

Clarke's eyes filled with tears. This wonderful, strong man had only ever wanted to protect his sister. But his family had grown on this planet and he had come to protect all of them. He had sacrificed everything for those he loved and he had been destroyed as payment. His mind had been shredded as much as his skin and every day was another war he had to fight to survive. 

But here he was. Carrying his baby sister on his shoulders to play chicken with Jasper and Monty as Raven Tickled Jasper to make him lose. 

He was healing and he was stronger than he knew and god, did she love him. 

……………….

Bellamy sat in the waves, obediently still as his sister washed his hair. Clarke and Monty were finding and collecting plants, Jasper and Raven arguing about bullets and bombs while Miller and Bryan shared kisses between the waves. 

It was a perfect day. 

Octavia’s hands moved through his curls as she washed out the dirt and grime, she sounded happy as she sang, one of the songs their mother used to love. 

"Heavy and hard is the heart of a king. King of iron, king of steel. The heart of a king loves everything like the hammer loves the nail. The heart of a man is a simple one. Small and soft, flesh and blood. And all that he loves is a woman, a woman is all that he loves." 

Bellamy watched Clarke talk excitedly with Monty about some roots they found, pointing at different parts before shoving it in a bag. The wind was lifting her hair around her face, and she distractedly wound her blonde tresses up into a knot at the top of her head, lazy and soft. God, she looked so adorable. How did she get so excited over plants? It’s a root Clarke, not gold. 

“Hades is king of the scythe and the sword. He covers the world in the color of rust. He scrapes the sky and scars the earth and he comes down heavy and hard on us.”

Bellamy was bubbling with happiness but at the same time felt so relaxed and calm. His medication dosage had been increased and so he was a little loopier but it was other stuff too that made him so happy. No nightmares last night. No panic attacks or flashbacks today. Sure he’d seen some scary stuff in the woods but he hadn’t disintegrated. He’d breathed and focused on Clarke and everything had been fine. 

He knew the calm wouldn’t last forever but he was going to damn well enjoy it while he could. 

“But even the hardest of hearts unharden’s suddenly when he saw her there. Persephone in her mother’s garden, sun on her shoulders, wind in her hair, the smell of the flowers she held in her hand and the pollen that fell from her fingertips. And suddenly Hades was only a man with the taste of nectar upon his lips.”

Bellamy watched Clarke as she talked to Monty, and smiled as she turned to look at him. Her face was bright and her smile made her eyes crinkle a little at the corners. She laughed when she caught him smiling dopily at her and lifted a hand, wiggling her fingers in a little wave.

He lifted his own hand and wiggled his fingers back. 

“Lie down Bell.”

“Huh?”

He’d almost forgotten his sister was there, or that anything other than Clarke existed. But Octavia tugged a little on his soapy curls to remind him.

“I need to wash the bubbles out. You’re going to smell like lavender for ages.”

Bellamy lay back in the water, allowing the cool waves to wash over his head as his sister’s hands massaged her fingers through his long hair. With his eyes closed and his ears under the water all he could hear was the muted sounds of the river, shushing and moving, nothing but the water against the rocks. 

He wished he could stay here and dunk his head in every time he felt overwhelmed. Which tended to be a lot. He stayed there for a few long minutes, feeling nothing but his sisters fingers in his hair and the water flowing over him like silk sheets. 

Octavia tapped his shoulder, signalling Bellamy to sit up again. He shook his hair out, sending droplets flying, splashing his sister and making her squeal.

“What are you afraid of O, you’re already soaked!”

The grounder girl pushed him back into the water, tumbling in after him and laughing as he did. 

Everything was going great. Bellamy was happier than he had been in months. But the quiet couldn’t last forever. 

The former soldier looked up, expecting to see Clarke where she had been a second before, but there was nothing but boot prints on the dirt and piles of dirt from the holes where the roots used to sit. 

Bellamy jumped up from the river, water cascading from him as he marched over. 

“Bellamy? What’s wrong?” Octavia came up behind him, watching as he crouched by the stream. 

“Clarke's gone. Monty too.”

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, talking to him softly as he examined the trail. 

“Yeah, they said they were going for a walk to find some more plants. I think your head was under water then. Didn’t you hear them?”

The boy stood abruptly, scaring Octavia, but that not what scared her the most. It was the look in his eyes and the squared off set of his shoulders. He looked like a soldier again, someone that would use his gun if he had to and probably enjoy doing so. 

“They could be in trouble.”

She backed away slightly before shaking her head and taking his arm. 

“They’re fine, I promise. Let’s go sit down for a bit-“

The elder Blake pushed past her and waded to the beach. 

“The grounders could already have them. We need to get everyone rounded up and think of a plan.”

Octavia splashed after him, trying to get his arm in her grasp enough to pull him back to face her but he kept pulling from her reach. She was getting frantic now because she could see where he was going. Miller and Bryan's gear was on the beach with everyone else’s, including their guns. 

Leaving them out wouldn’t usually have been a problem, especially since Bellamy didn’t like to go near them anymore, but his stony eyes were fixed on them and his determined march was too fast for Octavia to catch up to.

“Miller!”

The girl screamed, grabbing at her brother while begging him to stop. The shout was answered by four heads turning quickly in their direction and Nathan leaping up. The boy ran, legs flying high through the water, to come to a stop in front of his former commander. He placed a hand on his chest as he panted. 

“Hey man, what are you up to?”

Bryan stood behind his boyfriend, looking nervous. 

“I’m going to get Clarke and Monty because apparently no one else has noticed that they’re missing!”

Miller raised his hands in front of him, splayed and ready in case the Blake tried anything. His voice was calm but strong.

“They’re fine. They went for a walk. They’ll be back soon, man. So why don’t we just calm down and wait till they get back.”

Bellamy strode forwards, pushing against his friend who immediately wrapped his hands around the others arms, his boyfriend coming forward behind him. 

“Why don’t you get out of my way so I can save them before they die.”

“I can’t let you have the guns and you know that. Remember what Dr Chambers said okay? No weapons, it’s too dangerous.”

Bellamy sighed as if he had lost all patience. He feigned right and then went left instead, tripping Miller so that he could get past and shoving Bryan so that he could get to the weapons. He picked one up, ignoring his sister as she called for him. The weapon was heavy and warm in his hands from where it had laid in the sun. It still fit his hand like a glove as he placed it at his shoulder and took the safety off. 

Octavia was watching him, eyes wide and scared, her hands in front of her as she walked to him. 

“Bellamy, please. Put it down. You don’t want to hurt anyone.”

She was right but he needed it to save Clarke and Monty, why didn’t she understand?

“I’m trying to save them.” He was hurt, eyebrows drawn down as his sister crept towards him. Why was she so scared of him?

“They don’t need saving, Bell. This is just the PTSD messing with your head, making things seem scarier than they are. You don’t need the gun.”

Miller and Bryan were picking themselves off the ground, watching him with careful eyes. Bryan kissed Millers palm where they had been scraped on the stones. 

Bellamy looked at them all, so scared of him, of what he would do. What was he doing? He shook his head, confused. Octavia took the lapse in concentration to surge forward and grab at the gun but Bellamy’s eyes snapped open again and he raised the gun to aim at his sister. 

“I need to save them.”

Octavia had tears in her eyes now and Bellamy’s hands shook. He didn’t want to hurt his little sister but she wasn’t listening, she didn’t understand. 

“No, you don’t. Put it down, please.”

The mans head swam, thoughts pummeling and shifting with every second. He needed to save the others. But the people standing in front of him were his friends. Why was he aiming at his friends? His sister? What was he doing? 

His anger and determination melted into confusion and fear. Clarke and Monty were in danger. Weren’t they? His eyes misted as he tried to think straight.

A twig snapped and Bellamy’s aim spun to Jasper who was creeping up the beach. The gun was raised to Bellamy’s eye, aim set, finger on the trigger. But his chest was heaving and his resolution wavered. He didn’t understand what was happening. Jasper had his hands raised and he stopped walking. 

“Hey man, everything’s okay. We’re all friends here, we all want what’s best for you and for Monty and Clarke right?”

Bellamy sniffed and nodded.

“Okay, so if they were really missing we’d want to find them too right?”

That made sense. But they were still missing. He nodded and Jasper came closer, Bellamy’s hands instinctively raised the gun higher and a sob tore from his throat. He didn’t want to hurt Jasper but he couldn’t put the gun down. His body was wired with Adrenalin and instincts were driving his actions. The lanky boy raised his hands again, pausing his steps. 

“Monty is my best friend. I wouldn’t let anything hurt him. You trust me, right?”

Bellamy nodded as tears fell down his cheeks, breath huffing.

“So you don’t need that. You can put it down.”

Bellamy wanted to, the gun was so heavy in his shaking hands, he never wanted to touch that thing again. 

The weapon fell from his heavy hands, Jasper catching it before it could hit the ground. Bellamy drooped as more sobs tore his chest and he felt strong arms pull his hands behind his back as Miller pushed him gently to the ground. 

“You’re okay, it’s okay Bellamy. We just have to keep everyone safe.”

He allowed himself to be pushed onto his stomach as Miller secured his hands with cuffs he always had on his belt. Bellamy sobbed into the warm stones on the beach and closed his eyes as Octavia’s hands pushed back his damp hair. 

“Shh, Bell. Everything’s okay.”

He felt sick, and wrong. Like some dark pit had been carved out of his chest. He’d hurt them, again. He almost killed them.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

She pressed kisses to his head as she cried in harmony with her brother. 

“I know. I know, it’s not your fault.”

Miller patted the eldest Blake’s back in sympathy, hating to see one of his closest friends so hurt. 

“Everyone okay?”

Raven was stumbling up the beach, wincing at the scene. 

“Did you have to handcuff him?”

“We have to keep everyone safe. I don’t want to think about what would happen to him if he hurt anyone. I’m protecting him as much as I’m protecting everyone else.”

A shout rose from the other side of the stream, which immediately made Bellamy struggle on the ground, trying to pull himself up to his knees. 

“What happened!”

Clarke and Monty were sprinting over, bags full of leaves and moss, Clarke dropped to her knees and helped tug Bellamy up to his haunches. Her hands wiping over his cheeks, drying his tears even as they continued to flow, eyes roving over his face, checking for any harm. 

Bellamy let out a sob at seeing the blonde. “Clarke.”

Miller looked at the medic apologetically. 

“He freaked out when he saw you two missing. He thought you’d been taken and he had a mini episode. He went for the guns.”

“Oh god.” Clarke quickly looked around at everyone, sighing in relief when she saw everyone safe and accounted for. She turned back to the boy knelt in front of her.

“Hey, it’s alright Bell. I’m here. I’m here now. Monty and I were just collecting some plants. I’m sorry we scared you.”

His breaths were choppy and he sniffed as he focused on her sad eyes. 

“You’re okay? Monty too?”

Clarke moved aside, to allow Monty to wave a little from where he stood with Jasper and Raven. 

“Monty too. Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere?”

The boy shook his head. He’d ruined everything. His mind had played tricks, turning everything scary and big so that he couldn’t find his way out. And now that it was over he just felt wrecked. 

Clarke pushed a hand through his hair in comfort, and though it was a small gesture, it made his muscles relax and his breathing calm all the same. 

“You wanna take the cuffs off?”

He wanted to. He didn’t like being tied up. But he didn’t think he was safe.

“No.”

Clarke scrunched her eyebrows, worried and curious.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

She sighed, trailing the back of her hand over his cheek. 

“Oh, baby, you didn’t hurt anyone.”

The Blake shook his head, lifting his face to Miller and Bryan.

“I pushed you. I’m sorry. I was…. scared.”

Miller was holding his boyfriends hand and nodded to Bellamy. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault.”

Bryan smiled. 

“We’re okay.”

Clarke took Bellamy’s face in her hands and kissed his forehead, wrapping her arms around him as she pressed her lips close to his face. 

“We’re going to take the cuffs off now and you can hold onto me. For as long as you like, until you feel safe again. Okay?”

His hands felt evil, tainted, and he didn’t think he should be allowed to hold something so precious and beautiful with hands that had done so much wrong. But he nodded anyway because she told him to. 

The cuffs loosened from his wrists and his arms dropped to his sides, hands shaking as he started to sob again. Clarke hugged him, holding his face to her neck until he wrapped his own arms around her. She rocked them on the beach, rubbing a hand over his back as she shushed him, murmuring comforts to him. 

Octavia wrapped her own arms around him and Bellamy could feel Miller and Bryan join in behind him. Jasper dived into the group hug, and Monty helped Raven to the ground so that they could both join in too. Bellamy was surrounded in everyone, held and safe in the arms of his family. 

His chest didn’t feel so hollow now, and his head was a little clearer. They had all forgiven him. Just like that. And he felt so incredibly lucky and undeserving of their love but it was there anyway. His family still wanted him and Bellamy’s tears finally dried when Clarke kissed his temple and smiled against his skin. 

This was his safe place. This was where he was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also the song is Epic (Part 2) By Anais mitchell and Jason Vernon and I always thought it was perfect for Bellarke so now its in there you should totally listen to it 
> 
> ugh i hate the ending of this chap but whatever i really hoped you liked it i know parts are rushed but im about to be later to work lol anyway you guys are awesome

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this is good or not let me know what you think (but if you're going to yell at me about defending Bellamy's actions then don't bother thanks.) 
> 
> Maybe tell me what you want to happen in the next chapters if you want me to continue or just talk to me about the episodes :)
> 
> and don't worry I hate the title too. suggestions for that would be nice


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